


Nothing Is Infinite

by EnglandsDreaming



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-01-08 10:42:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1131691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnglandsDreaming/pseuds/EnglandsDreaming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jacqueline Baratheon had already crossed the age of nineteen when she arrived in Winterfell with her king brother and his family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Winterfell

The woman slowed her horse to a stop behind the Queen's wheelhouse before allowing a young squire to help her dismount. Her knees shook slightly due to the many weeks of riding and she left out a soft groan of discomfort. She had rode horseback almost the entire way from King's Landing in the South to Winterfell in the North, only walking very rarely and only once riding in the large wheelhouse with the Queen and her young children.

She unconsciously pulled the heavy dark yellow cloak tight around her body to protect it against the cold wind of the North. It was trimmed in fur, which tickled slightly against her skin. "Well, this is drearier than I expected." She said quietly to no one in particular, as the others in the company began to dismount from their horses. To the woman, the North just appeared to be a land of grey. Even the green of the summer grass was tainted by the fog that stretched from the ground to the sky covering everything in its bleak hue. Small flakes of white snow floated down from the sky but never making it to the warmer ground. The walls of Winterfell were built from large granite stones and they only added to the dullness of the landscape. But the people within the walls seemed a bit more worthy of note, the girl noticed as she moved her eyes to the group of Northerners lined up orderly in the yard, awaiting the King.

"Then you should find it quite appealing." A quick voice said to her right. She ignored the owner, as she often did, and turned her back on the procession to attend to her horse. Jacqueline Baratheon had already crossed the age of nineteen when she arrived in Winterfell with her king brother and his family. She was shorter than her three older brothers, but they all had the same eyes of blue and black hair, though of course Stannis was starting to lose his. Lady Jacqueline's own hair moved with the wind as it fell down her back. It was pinned back out of her face and her once passionate blue eyes followed her gloved hand as she moved it absentmindedly across the brown horse's fur. Beneath the dark yellow cloak she wore a deep blue grown, which matched her eyes, made of heavy fabric for the Northern cold.

When she felt that her presence was needed, she removed her attention from her horse and back to the crowd gathered. Just as she did, the man who had mocked her, the Kingslayer, walked pass, probably on some earn from his sister, the Queen. Her brother and Ned Stark had disappeared, leaving their two families alone together. Queen Cersei had already introduced herself and Jacqueline forced the apathetic look on her face to be replaced by one of curiosity, for fear someone would take offense to an unpleasant look, as she crossed the short distance to greet the Starks.

She felt a number of eyes follow her, a sensation that had been oddly absent for years in King's Landing. Lady Jacqueline had somehow perfected the seemingly impossible task of being invisible and thus ignored in the capitol. But she was not accustomed to the North or the North to her. Years ago, when people took notice of her, they told her she was beautiful and she hoped that was the cause for the attention now. She hoped here that her beauty would not be tainted by the reason behind her lack of a marriage, at least for a little while. Fueled by the possible false idea that people were looking at her for something good and not bad, she managed a happy and sincere voice when she greeted the Lady of Winterfell.

"Lady Catelyn," Jacqueline said with a hit of familiarity, though she hoped not so much that it would seem forced or fake. There was no sign of recognition on the older woman's face, confirming the younger one's belief that they had never crossed paths before. She barely missed a beat before she added, "I don't think we've ever met. Lady Jacqueline Baratheon."

Catelyn smiled as she recognized the name. "Yes, of course. You look so much like your brothers." The Lady of Winterfell appeared happy to meet someone who was not a Lannister.

Jacqueline too was glad to meet someone who did not have golden hair. Instead, Lady Catelyn had dark auburn hair, a trait she passed on to a number of children. "I do hope I am a bit prettier than them." Jacqueline laughed a real laugh, a rare event. She loved it when people told her she reminded them of her brothers. It gave her a sense of worth. If only for a moment.

That was when one of the Stark children spoke up. "Are you the King's sister?" It was the little brown haired girl. Her words were quick and her voice excited as she bounced next to her older sister. Lady Catelyn looked a bit distraught at her daughter's rudeness but bad manners rarely upset the Baratheon woman. Nothing really upset the Baratheon woman. She was King Robert's sister after all.

"Yes, child." Jacqueline said, enjoying her first impression of the Starks.

When the little Stark spoke again, she spoke all in one breath, stringing each word together without rest. "Is it true you can't have children? Why can't you have children?" Lady Stark took a sharp inhale of breath before reprimanding her youngest daughter. The young girl clearly realized she spoken ill but did not seem to understand how. Her slender face was full of both regret and confusion.

Lady Jacqueline politely silenced the older woman with a small wave of her hand before walking to the outspoken child, where she kneeled to see the girl at eye level. She wore a heavy blue wool cloak, edged in grey fur. Her brown hair was braided and wrapped up in a bun. Unlike her older sister, who stood next to her with a slightly horrified look on her face, she looked nothing like her mother. "What's your name, sweet girl?" Jacqueline said softly.

The girl didn't know where to look so she settled on the ground around her feet. "Arya, my lady."

"And how old are you?"

"Nine, my lady."

"You're smart for your age." The compliment seemed to ease a bit of the tension that had fallen on the Stark side of yard. The immediate Stark family along with Jacqueline had failed to notice that everyone else gathered in the courtyard had begun to move about their business, now that the majority of pleasantries were done with. Jacqueline continued in a stern yet soft voice, as if she was sharing an important secret not met for other ears. "Yes, it is true I cannot bear children. The gods did not honor me with that gift."

The little girl seemed to want to ask more questions but thought better of it. The conversation ended when the King and Ned Stark returned from the crypts.


	2. Ours is the Fury

Jacqueline was done with the feast. She had already eaten, drank and danced too much. The social interaction alone was enough to overextend the normally reticent lady. Not that she did not enjoy talking with her hosts. The Starks were an uncomplicated family, more concerned with the coming of winter and the movement of wildlings than the frivolous concerns of those at court in the capitol. Jacqueline liked that about them.

While the patriarch of the family, Eddard Stark, appeared austere, especially in comparison to the king, the other Starks held a bit of innocent liveliness that was missing in King's Landing. The eldest boy, Robb, tried to play the part of his father's son and future Lord of Winterfell, but the ward, Theon Greyjoy, along with his younger brothers brought out a more childlike side to him. The little ones, Bran and Rickon, tried to be courteous and spend time with Prince Tommen, but he was too shy and unadventurous for them so the Stark boys set about running around tables, talking to anyone who would talk back. The little girl, Arya, was much of the same.

The eldest girl was a bit different. Sansa Stark appeared to inherit more from the Tully side than just her looks. If Jacqueline thought the girl excited by the royal visit that morning in the yard, she was ecstatic now that her betrothal to Prince Joffrey had been announced. And why would she not be excited? She would be queen someday and her children would be princes and princesses. Jacqueline hoped that day was a long way into the future because it would mean Robert's death and Joffrey's coronation; two things she did not want to see happen.

After finishing her cup of wine and a last dance with a more than eager Theon Greyjoy, Lady Jacqueline took her leave of Great Hall and the feast. In need of fresh air, she found her way outside into the cold night. The snow fell in larger flakes but they still did not reach the ground before disappearing into nothingness. She stood on the large stone steps outside the hall; she could still hear the sounds of laughter and the clinking of glasses as she breathed in the cold air.

The sharped pains in her lungs caused by the frigidness of it were the only time Jacqueline felt the cold. Her dress was form fitting and made of wool dyed a dark green color and she was able to hide her bare hands in the large bells of her sleeves. The front part of her black hair was braided before being pinned to the back of her head in a circular style. The rest of it was allowed to freely fall down her back and now it waved in the later summer wind.

Light from the Great Hall leaked outside and lit up parts of the courtyard but Jacqueline paid no attention to anything in front of her. Instead she lifted her eyes to the night sky. Flakes of snow melted against her cheeks but she never felt the cold thanks to the wine. She exhaled and watched her breath float up towards the stars before it faded away. A strong wind swept through the courtyard and alerted Jacqueline of the cold once again. A rather violent shiver went through her body and she dug her hands deeper into her sleeves, gripping her elbows with the opposite hand.

A tall shadow appeared next to her and the owner's voice broke through Jacqueline's quiet concentration. "You'll catch your death out here." Jaime Lannister appeared from the light of the Great Hall and took a place beside Jacqueline in the shadows. Jaime was taller than her. Almost everyone was taller than her for she had missed out on the tallness that ran in her family. It was not the only she missed out on.

"Do you not have a king to be guarding, ser?" She asked with a politeness that did not match the words. Jacqueline actively refused to call him 'Kingslayer' aloud, though sometimes the name appeared in her thoughts. She felt that she would never fully understand the hostility Jaime Lannister received for killing the Mad King. A king who burn people alive did not seem like a king who warranted oaths of loyalty. Jacqueline voiced this opinion years earlier, when she twelve, in the presence of her brother Stannis, who had then reprimand her with a long lecture about of honor and duty. She never mentioned it again.

Another gust of cold air swept into the yard. Jacqueline shivered before holding her body tighter as her hair danced in the wind. Jaime appeared unaffected by the cold as he ignored her question, "You should go back inside."

"You go back inside." She spat, politeness overtaken by wine. After a brief moment, when she realized her rudeness, she turned to the knight and offered an apologetic smile, as best as her now numb face would allow. "Pardon me, ser. I should not have said that." Jaime looked at her with his green eyes then laughed and Jacqueline's anger returned. "Am I that funny to you?" She said harshly.

His laugh faded away and then he answered, his voice a mixture of arrogance and amusement, "Yes, you are, my lady. You always do that. The instant that Baratheon fury makes its presence known, it disappears just as quickly. And then you apologize. I wonder, did Stannis tell you it was your duty to be polite all the time as a child, Lady Jacqueline?" The knight laughed again

Jacqueline denied him any more courtesy and refused to give him an answer. But Stannis did have a part in her temperament; all her brothers did. Her parents had died months after Jacqueline was born and Robert began his rebellion when she was three. Her brother Renly, who was just a year older, and her were moved from Storm's End before the Tyrell's laid siege to the castle. From a young age, she felt a burden on her older brothers and she did her best to lessen it by not making a fuss. Even as a little girl she gave no complaints.

When Robert took the throne, Renly was given the seat of Storm's End and Stannis the island of Dragonstone. Many people, including the Queen, advised Robert to have someone take young Jacqueline as a ward. Perhaps his friend Eddard Stark in the north or the Queen's father at Casterly Rock. Instead, the king brought her to King's Landing and she was raised at court.

The quiet girl grew into a quiet woman. A quiet woman who refused to take part in the politics of lies and betrayal that plagued the capitol. She pandered to everyone and thus pandered to no one. Contentment was her game; the false world's best disguise. She managed the facade for so long, she no longer had a role in the game. Her part had come to an almost sudden end when Maester Pycelle declared her barren. She could not bear child and so could not be part in the arrangement of marriages, which, according to one of Stannis' guards, was all a woman was good for. Marriage and bearing heirs. Jacqueline could not do that, so she had fallen further into the cracks of whispers at King's Landing. A true neutral piece forgotten on the sidelines. But despite the lack of attention given to her by the important players, she still kept the disguise of contentment for fear of being put back into play.

She bid a good night, in an overly sweet tone, to the Kingslayer, before walking away towards her room as quickly as her cold feet would take her. Unfortunately, Ser Jaime had a longer stride and was able to keep up easily. He made some mention about escorting her safely to her sleeping chamber but Jacqueline paid him no attention. She walked in silence as the knight walked beside, right hand resting on the pommel of his sword and his voice resumed the mocking tone. He was always mocking her, hoping for a reaction and rarely getting one.

After a few minutes, they reached Jacqueline's room, which was located in one of the inter towers of Winterfell, and the woman gracefully stepped into the warm room and closed the door without a word or second glance at her escort.


	3. The Hunt

Jacqueline decided she was wrong about the North. It was still much too cold for her, but the landscape was more pleasant than she originally thought. Without the eerie fog, the short grass appeared a dark green color against the greyish blue sky. The sun was still not visible behind the shapeless clouds. The ground refused to remain flat for any accountable distance and instead traveled up and down creating hills and valleys, some higher and deeper than others. It was warmer that day, than it had been on the day of their arrival. But she doubted that she could ever get use to the cold.

Jacqueline was dressed in thick green velvet. Her grown started high on her neck and fell loosely over her small body, collecting slightly at her waist. The sleeves were snug against her arms and her hands were covered with gloves made of brown leather. Her open surcoat was wool, dyed a darker green, lined in dark fur and tied around her waist with an adjoining silver brooch in the shape of a leaping stag. Her black hair was pulled back into a single large braid.

She tightened her grip on the reins as the grey palfrey picked up his pace. The horse had been a gift from Renly on her sixteenth name-day and he had become her most prized possession. Jacqueline had been invited to join the royal hunt, though it sounded more like a command the way Robert had asked her. She would have preferred to stay behind in Winterfell with the rest of the women. She had drank too much wine at the feast and now wanted nothing more than to return to her room and fall back asleep, despite the growing charms of the north. The king was always forcing her into social settings, whether it be festivals in the capitol or hunting in the north. Robert knew that if she was left behind in Winterfell, she would spend the day in her room, content with being alone.

Jacqueline knew the people of King's Landing, including some at court, had taken to calling her Stannis the Younger. She supposed she had adopted a few of her older brother's traits. They were both seldom creatures; always frowning or scowling. They both had forgotten how to smile, truly smile. Stannis had never known how to laugh and Jacqueline was quickly forgetting how to do that as well. She had once been so much like her brother Renly. Chasing after him as a child screaming 'look at me, look at me' as they played games together. But Jacqueline was forced to grow up. Grow up or be a burden. And Jacqueline refused to be a burden.

Robert rode beside Eddard Stark. Her brother had asked Lord Stark to be his new Hand of the King but she was unsure if Stark had given his answer yet. The answer would be 'yes' though. Robert may have been Ned's oldest friend, but he was still king. After them came Prince Joffrey and the Hound. Jacqueline's eldest nephew wore a dark red doublet with gold stitching. Over his back hung a long dark cloak with one half adorned with the crowned stag of House Baratheon and the other half with the roaring lion of House Lannister. Jacqueline hated that. As a woman, she figured she should appreciate a son taking pride in his mother's house but as a Baratheon, she was infuriated by the equal representation. Jacqueline liked to think herself more of a Baratheon than a woman.

Jacqueline made conscious decisions not to interact with the prince. When she did, she was always polite and courteous, never giving him a reason to snap at her. He would be king one day and she wanted to survive his reign. There were many a night when Jacqueline found herself crying over the children she would never have. But then in the morning, Joffrey would do or say something horrible and Jacqueline thanked the Mother for not making her one. What if her child turned out like Joffrey, cruel and vicious? But then there were Tommen and Myrcella; two sweet and kind children so unlike their older brother. No, she thought, better that the gods made her barren and never force her to deal with such odds.

Behind the prince and his sworn shield, rode Jacqueline on her palfrey. Riding directly behind her, all atop two dark coursers, were Ned's eldest son Robb, Theon Greyjoy, the ward of Winterfell, and Ned's brother who was visiting from the Wall. She was of an age with Theon, both having been ten years old when Balon Greyjoy rebelled against the Iron Throne. It had been six years after Robert's own rebellion, and again Jacqueline was left behind, this time in King's Landing, as her two older brothers went to war. Robert had superior numbers and resources so Balon's reign as King of the Iron Islands had not lasted long, less than a year. Afterwards, there was a tourney at Lannisport to celebrate the victory and she made her only trip to the Westerlands at her brother's bequest. Jacqueline remembered very little from that tourney, only that Ser Jaime Lannister lost the final to some knight from Bear Island.

Theon himself was a tall, lean boy, or man, with dark black hair and a handsome face. He always appeared to be smiling, as if he was enjoying some unspoken joke. His clothes were nondescript and he carried a quiver of arrows and a bow across his back. Robb Stark was only armed with a sword, which he wore on his hip. Robb looked more like his mother, curly auburn hair and Tully blue eyes and high cheekbones. The two youngest Stark boys were too young to join them on the hunt and Jacqueline was the only woman invited along.

"Jaks! Get up here." The King bellowed back at her. She steered her horse out of the line and trotted up to the front, which awarded with a sneer from her nephew. She went to right side of her brother, curious as to what he wanted. Robert never paid her much attention as a child, or an adult. She was low on his list of priorities, even lower than his wife and children.

"Your Grace?" Jacqueline said once she reached her brother.

"How do you like Winterfell?" Robert asked, barely looking at her.

He had never asked her opinion before, on anything, so Jacqueline was a bit surprised at the question. "I like it well, You Grace. It's a bit different from King's Landing. Their godswood looks bigger." Jacqueline said the first things that came to mind.

That made the king laugh. Robert's laugh was a boisterous sound that erupted from his large stomach. It was often an endearing trait; unless he was laughing at you then it was obnoxious and annoying. "The godswood, of all the things…Robb! My sister wishes to see your godswood." The king commanded, to his sister's dismay. In a quieter voice, he added "I expect you to return when you're done looking at the trees. You're not getting out of this day so easily, Jaks."


	4. Bad Decisions

Jacqueline spent most of the short ride giving apologies and Robb spent it accepting them. Theon just laughed. She didn't know what her brother was playing at. She had attended the hunt without protest and she had been quite social the previous evening. What more did he want from her? I should have done with Stannis to Dragonstone instead of with Robert to Winterfell. At least Stannis appreciates my silence. No. Robert did not have quite the same amount of entertainment in the north as he did in the capitol and he made up for it by forcing his sister into unwanted social interactions with strangers.

Though, Jacqueline was happy to get a chance to see Winterfell's godswood. King's Landing's godswood was just a small, dense patch of trees. It didn't even have a proper heart tree. All weirwoods in the south had been burnt or cut down a long time ago. But Winterfell's was much larger, covering multiple acres and untouched for thousands of years. The trees grew taller too and far apart enough that Jacqueline could easily ride her horse into forest. Leaves crushed underneath her palfrey's hooves as they made for the center of godswood. The forest smelt of moist earth and decay and she heard the soft, distant chirp of birds and rustle of bushes as small animals darted away from them.

Robb rode to her left and Theon to her right. Apart from the apologies, the three did not speak. It did not seem necessary to fill the silence with words in a place such as this. They came to a large round clearing. A large white tree grew towards the sky in the center. Small red oval leaves that had fallen from the weirwood floated on the surface of the small pond positioned in front of the tree. The three halted their horses and dismounted. As Jacqueline swung her foot over, a pair of hands appeared on her waist, startling her. She lost her grip on the pommel of her saddle and she felt her foot turn, caught in the stirrup. She fell backwards and would have landed on her bottom if it wasn't for the hands.

She looked up and saw Theon giving her an almost sympathetic smile. "Sorry." Jacqueline muttered before straightening herself and pulling out of the creases in her dress.

"Are you okay, my lady?" Robb asked, holding the reins of his horse. He had no trouble in dismounting from the destrier.

"Yes. I'm just still a bit tired from the journey is all, my lord. It's quite a long way from King's Landing to Winterfell, you know." Jacqueline gave her horse a quick pat as an apology for falling.

"Did you ride your horse the entire way?" Theon asked, still standing next to her.

Jacqueline shrugged her shoulders. "Yes, mostly. It was either that or ride with the Queen and her young children. A horse seemed like the more comfortable option." Theon laughed at that.

"Prince Joffrey has certainly lived up this reputation." Robb said softly. Jacqueline knew what he meant. She wanted to blame Cersei for his bad temperament, but she knew it wasn't entirely her fault. Tommen and Mrycella were in no way like their older brother, except in looks. They were something just not right with Joffrey.

"I understand but it would not do well for me to speak ill of my nephew." She said politely, stepping forward, returning her glaze to the weirwood. "How old is this place?" She asked, changing the subject away from her dysfunctional family.

Jacqueline was firm in the Faith of the Seven, much more so than her brothers. As a child, her brothers were erratically away, usually at war. The gods were always there though. It was comforting for her to have some kind of constant in her life. But that did not mean she could not appreciate the Old Gods. She listened intently as Robb told her about the Children of the Forest and the First Men. They sat in front of the heart tree. A long face was craved into the trunk of the lone weirwood and dried red sap ran from the corners of the eyes, giving it a sad appearance.

"We should get back. I would hate to not be there when Robert kills a pig." Jacqueline joked. They mounted their horses, and this time Theon decided Jacqueline could do it herself, and turned their horses around to rejoin the royal hunt. Despite the godswood's size, it was still within Winterfell's walls. They exited the woods and entered the large courtyard, intending to leave through the main gate and head back to the wolfswood.

Only there were a great many more people in the courtyard than the last time. Jacqueline was worried that they had spent too long in the godswood and the hunt was over. But the excitement and pride that usually went with the end of a successful hunt was not the tone of the crowd gathered. They were silent except for a few quiet whispers. Many of the faces were worried and Jacqueline noticed that a few women were crying.

Before she could ask what was going on, Ned Stark and the king came storming through the gate. Lord Stark never paused as he swiftly dismounted and all but ran into the Great Hall. Her brother followed him. Jacqueline had not noticed that Robb had dismounted until she saw his auburn hair disappear into the castle as well. It started to snow as a few other people from the hunt appeared, some taking more time than others.

She got down from the palfrey but did not move to enter the castle; unsure if the matter at hand called for her presence. If I'm needed, Robert will send someone. She thought as she stood, holding the reins in one hand. A man appeared next to her, too tall to be Theon. She looked up and recognized the blonde hair of Ser Jaime. "What happened?" The Kingslayer had stayed in Winterfell instead of attending the hunt.

"The boy fell from a tower." He answered in bored tone.

"What? Which boy?" Did he mean Tommen or Rickon?

"Ned Stark's boy. Beren or whatever is name is."

"Bran?" Jacqueline remembered the boy from the previous night running around tables with his little brother following close behind. "How did he fall?"

"Doing something he shouldn't have been. If you climb high enough or often enough, Jacqueline, you're going to fall eventually." His face held no emotion, except, perhaps, a bit of annoyance. "Speaking of bad decisions, my lady," Jaime's smirk returned when he looked down at her. "What were you doing in the woods alone with two men? I've never known you for such scandalous behavior."


	5. A Request

A heavy cloud of melancholy had settled over Winterfell along with the thick fog that had rolled in from further north which carried a spat of rain with it. Bran Stark had yet to wake from his fall and the castle seemed to echo his silence. Lady Catelyn spent her days with her injured son, never leaving the room. All the pageantry that had come with the royal visit had all but disappeared. Jacqueline felt awkward at being present in someone's home when such a personal tragedy had occurred.

The boy who consistently clung to her made her feel all the more embarrassed and self-conscious. Just days after his brother's fall, and his mother's ensuing disappearance, little Rickon had taken to craving Jacqueline's attention and going as far as digging his tiny fingernails into her skin to remain with her. When Maester Luwin, with the help of Robb, had tried to separate the two, Rickon had left long scratches on her forearm and screamed so loud that Jacqueline settled on the easy route and let the little boy stay with her. "I think it's your hair," Robb said with a sympathetic smile as his youngest brother climbed into her lap and once again began to play with Jacqueline's long black hair. "Sansa doesn't let him touch her hair."

Jacqueline really did not mind the boy that much, when he was not aggressively pulling at her hair or crying. But that only happened at night when she tried to put him to bed. Together, the two had settled into something of a routine. Every day they took a long walk around the outside of the castle. At first Rickon had insisted on being carried but Jacqueline had managed to get him to settle for holding her hand. His young direwolf, Shaggydog, was never far away from them. One afternoon, when Rickon was in a better-than-usual mood, he let go of her hand long to begin racing his wolf back and forth from the stables to where Jacqueline sat on the stone steps leading into the Great Hall.

Jacqueline reclined against the stone wall, enjoying her short moments of freedom while keeping a close eye on Rickon, for she did not fully trust the direwolf not to act out against its young owner. She wanted to go home. But despite that, Jacqueline was also dreading the long journey back to the capitol. Lord Stark and his two daughters would be joining, along with a small number from his household. The pace would only be slower with the additional people. But Tyrion Lannister would not be joining them for the trip back. The younger Lannister was set on traveling the road north, to see the Wall. Jacqueline had half a mind to go with him, if it meant avoiding the royal procession.

She was thinking about asking Robert for permission to join Lord Tyrion in visiting the Wall when Ser Jaime appeared at her side, an event that was becoming too much of a habit for Jacqueline's liking. "I'm sure you'll have a good amount of time before anyone notices." Jaime said, looking down at her with his bright green eyes.

"Notices what?" Jacqueline asked without taking her eyes off Rickon. The little boy was now chasing the wolf around in tight circles.

"Well, considering you can't have any of your own, it's only a matter of time before you steal someone else's child. This is probably the best chance you're ever going to get." She could almost hear the smirk appear on Jaime's face as he mocked her. Jacqueline ignored him, pretending she did not hear. After a moment of silence Jaime said, "Lord Stark and the King want to speak with you."

Jacqueline looked at him when he said that. With a displeased sigh, she climbed to her feet, refusing Jaime's help, and brushed the dirt off her yellow dress. She thought about asking him to watch Rickon but she knew the answer. So, with Rickon's hand in hers and Shaggy off chasing his siblings, Jacqueline reentered the Great Hall to find her brother.

He was sitting at the table atop the dais alone with his new Hand. Robert looked as if he had just woken up, and Jacqueline was sure he had. Ned Stark looked tired too but that was understandable considering all that had happened. She felt little Rickon twist his hand free from her own before he darted away towards the kitchen, leaving her alone as she made her way to the table. Jacqueline said her formalities as she took a seat at the table with an odd feeling in her stomach that she was not going to like this conversation.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

They were leaving. Bran still had not woken but the king could not wait any longer. Today, the royal company would be returning to King's Landing. Snowflakes were falling from the grey sky as Jacqueline watched others make the final preparations for the journey. Rickon had thrown a fit earlier that day when he learned that his father and sisters were leaving but he now sat quietly in Jacqueline's arms with a hand tangled in her loose hair. She too had wanted to throw a fit when she learned she would be staying behind in Winterfell as well.

Lady Catelyn was still refusing to leave Bran's room and Ned thought it would best for Rickon if Jacqueline could stay behind. At least until Lord Tyrion returned from the Wall. Lord Stark had said. Jacqueline found herself unable to deny his request after the king had already expressed his support of it. But after Ned had left to check on Bran and his wife, Jacqueline tried to convince her brother to change his mind, to left return home with him. She did not want to be left behind alone with a family she barely knew to take care of a child that was not hers. But Robert refused to hear it. _Stop being so childish._ He had told her before leaving her alone in the Great Hall.

_I am not a child._ She wanted to yell back. And she wasn't. Jacqueline was nineteen, a woman grown. If she had flowered, she would be married. She would have her own child by now, possibly Rickon's age. But that would never happen. I am not a child. She thought again, as she watched King Robert and the rest of the royal parade move under Winterfell's gate and being their journey south. She suppressed the urge to drop the child on her hip and chase after her brother. _It's only for a short time. I'll see my family again. Soon._


	6. Howls

Rickon was even worse with the absence of his father and sisters. Between the constant hair pulling and refusing to go anywhere unless Jacqueline carried him, the boy had started to ask when his family would return to Winterfell. None of her answers satisfied him and he kept claiming that she was lying. And now even Robb was not spared Rickon's despair. The boy would now sneak out of bed at odd hours of the night and wake his brother up and ask about his father. Even Rickon's direwolf had become a bit more aggressive towards everyone and never seemed to cease howling.

Winterfell was still quiet days after the king left. Even with the wolves' howls, it was much quieter than King's Landing, an aspect which Jacqueline greatly appreciated. She missed sleeping in her own bed and the cold was still too much for her but she was comfortable in the silence. Jacqueline was so unlike Robert in that sense. The king was never one for quiet or stillness and he actively threw out any remains of such things from his presence. He was noisy and always talking, talking to anyone who would listen, friend or stranger.

Jacqueline did not like conversing with strangers all that much and almost everyone was a stranger to her since she did not really have any friends outside of her family. Part of that was Robert's fault, she believed. His refusal to make her a ward of some other great House meant she was never far away from her family. Jacqueline had spent the largest portion of her life in the capitol with Robert. Renly grew up at Storm's End, only taking a seat on the Small Council when he came of age and Stannis constantly traveled between Dragonstone and the capitol. When someone mentioned that Robert send her to Sunspear or Highgarden, Jacqueline remembered her brother's face turning red before he threw his cup of wine against the wall. She doubted that Robert would ever forgive the Martells and Tyrells for remaining loyal to the Mad King during his rebellion. So, she remained in King's Landing, which many thought was out of Robert's desire not to be completely surrounded by Lannisters.

Not that Jacqueline particularly minded. Even when Stannis and Robert went to war with the Greyjoys, Renly had visited the capitol. Why would she need friends when her family was right there? Everyone else in King's Landing, from the lords on the Small Council to her own handmaidens were simply acquaintances. The Lannisters were her family by marriage, but she never considered them her friends. The only person outside her family who she considered to be her friend was Ser Antario Belmore, her sworn shield, who had remained behind in the capitol with his pregnant wife. If she had known she would be left behind in Winterfell, she would have forced Ser Antario to join the trip north.

Night had already fallen as Jacqueline carried a sleepy Rickon out of the godswood and into the castle. The boy had spent most of the day running from her and chasing his direwolf and by the time Jacqueline caught up and announced it was time for bed, he was too tired to object. After putting Rickon to bed, she climbed the stairs to Bran's room. Jacqueline had taken to sitting beside the injured boy's bed with Lady Catelyn for a few minutes each night. Lady Catelyn never spoke to her, and half the time she doubted that the poor woman even knew she was there, but not did she send the girl away, so Jacqueline felt her presence was somewhat welcome.

Her footsteps were the only sound present in the castle, though the howls of the direwolves could be heard through the stone walls, as she made her way down the long hallway to Bran's room. She ran a hand through her hair in an attempt to fix the damage caused by Rickon's little hands. Her stomach rumbled quietly and Jacqueline wondered if it was too late to get a snack before bed. But all thoughts of a late night visit to the kitchens disappeared when a hand grabbed her hair roughly by the roots. Before she could scream, her head was pushed sharply forward and when it connected with the stone wall a loud crack echoed in Jacqueline's ears before her world fell into darkness.

 

Jacqueline opened her eyes but immediately shut them again. Why is it so bright? She thought before the voices interrupted her. There was more than one, each telling her wake up. She was lying down on a bed and a smooth pillow was placed under her head. The soft fur blankets brushed against her hands. When she finally opened her eyes again, she could make three faces that looked down at her in the dimness, but they were not the faces she wanted to see. I'm still in Winterfell. She thought sadly. "I…why…," It took her a moment to find the correct words. "What happened?" A cold breeze blew in from the open window which framed the night sky. A number of lit candles were scattered across the room to combat the darkness. They did not produce much light but she blinked against the brightness nonetheless. Jacqueline moved to push herself up into a sitting position but when she did a wave of bile swirled in her stomach and she had a hard time keeping herself from vomiting.

"You shouldn't move, my lady." Maester Luwin said as Jacqueline ignored him and the nausea and sat up. The effort exhausted her and she found herself wanting return to sleep. Robb and Theon were there with the maester and all three were looking at her. Her head ached, she felt dizzy and her stomach continued to twist, but their stares bothered her the most. She repeated her question.

"A man attacked you." Robb said, beginning the story of how Jacqueline had come to wake up with a head wound. Before making his way into the castle, and meeting her in the hallway, the man had set the library tower afire. The man must have thought the fire would bring everyone outside, leaving Bran alone. But it did not turn out that way. The man had easily knocked Jacqueline unconscious but he found more trouble once he was in Bran's room. When the man brandished a knife, Lady Catelyn tried to defend her injured son, getting herself injured in the process. In the end, Bran's direwolf ripped the man's throat out before he could kill anyone.

Before Jacqueline could ask why someone would want to kill Bran, Maester Luwin insisted that she needed more rest. The three men bid her a good sleep and walked out of the room, closing the door firmly behind them. She thought of ignoring the maester and crawling out of the fur covered bed and resume her planned trip to the kitchens. Curious, she raised a hand to her head and the spot where it had hit the wall. A small knot was present under her hair and a sharp pain erupted when she touched it. The pain did not go away and Jacqueline eventually conceded, rolling over in the bed and closing her eyes.


	7. Tension

Lady Catelyn had disappeared. Jacqueline was forced to stay in bed for two days and by the time she was allowed to walk out of the stuffy room the lady of Winterfell was gone. Which Jacqueline found especially strange since Bran had awoken. But anytime she asked about Lady Stark's absence she was awarded with vague cryptic answers. After a few tries, Jacqueline gave up and never mentioned the lady again.

With Bran Stark awake, Jacqueline expected the tension around Winterfell to dissolve and it had but not the degree it was before the boy had fallen. Whether that was due to the reason behind his mother's disappearance or his inability to walk, Jacqueline wasn't sure. Little Rickon spent less time in her arms now through he remained just as uncooperative. Now, the youngest Stark spent the majority of his time in Bran's room.

With his mother and father gone, Robb had assumed control of Winterfell. Jacqueline herself had never run a holdfast but she could tell the young man was a bit overwhelmed. Through she supposed it would was a good learning occasion for him. Despite his young age and inexperience, Robb Stark was certainly doing better than King Robert. Her brother was good at war but when it came to ruling a kingdom, or even the Red Keep, he was insensible. Not because he was stupid but because he didn't care. He left the boring business to the Small Council while he was busy drinking and whoring. At least the Stark boy took an interest in his duties.

A couple of weeks passed without incident and without a sign of Lady Catelyn. Jacqueline kept to herself, not wanting to get in the way of Robb's new responsibilities. Her day to day activities were not much different from what she would be doing if she were in the Capitol but despite this she still missed the distant city. She wanted to return home to her own bed. And she missed her brothers. Perhaps Stannis has returned from Dragonstone by now, she thought one morning.

Finally, after nearly a month alone in the North, Tyrion Lannister returned to Winterfell from his journey to the Wall. He arrived late in the afternoon on a particularly cold day with his two guards and a man dressed in all black. Robb sat in the large, ornately carved chair atop the raised dais with Maester Luwin sitting to his right. Jacqueline stood off to the side next to the Greyjoy boy as she watched the slightly tense and awkward encounter between Robb and Tyrion.

"I must say I received a slightly warmer welcome on my last visit," Tyrion stated, taking note of the direwolf that laid on the dais in front of Robb.

"Any man of the Night's Watch is welcome in Winterfell." Robb said, meaning the grimy looking man dressed in all black. The man nodded his thanks.

"Any man of the Night's Watch but not me. Eh, boy?" The dwarf's voice took on an angrier tone.

To which Robb matched, "I'm not your boy, Lannister. I'm Lord of Winterfell while my father is away." If she had heard a recount of the exchange secondhand, Jacqueline would have found the whole conversation amusing. But the room was filled with this strange tension that she could not find a reason for and so she was unable to see any humor in the situation.

Thankfully, before the conversation could get any more heated, the door in the back of the small hall opened up and young Bran Stark entered. Just as Maester Luwin had predicted, the fall left the young Stark without the use of this legs. Since he could no longer walk, the boy was carried everywhere by a giant of man named Hodor. Whether that was his actual name or if they just called him that since that was the only word he ever said, Jacqueline was unsure. Hodor entered the hall with the boy in his large arms and stood quietly in between Tyrion and the dais. Jacqueline couldn't help but notice how the boy's legs dangled uselessly in the air.

Tyrion noticed as well. "Hello, Bran. Do you remember anything about what happened?" He asked in a much kinder voice than the one he used on the older brother.

The maester answered for him, "He has no memory of that day."

Tyrion made a face at the information before continuing, "You like to ride, Bran?"

"Yes," the boy said strongly. "Well, I mean I did like to."

"The boy's lost the use of his legs," Luwin reminded.

"What of it?" Tyrion said a bit too sharply in Jacqueline's opinion. "With the right horse and saddle even a cripple can ride."

"I'm not a cripple!" The boy stated defiantly.

"Then I'm not a dwarf. My father will rejoice to hear it." The Lannister then pulled a scroll from his person and handed it to Bran, who removed the string and unrolled it to reveal detailed plans for a custom saddle. Tyrion went on explain the type of horse needed.

The act forced the Lord of Winterfell to reassess his hospitality and after a moment of silence Robb finally offered Tyrion to stay in the castle. But Tyrion had had enough. "Spare me your false courtesies, Lord Stark. There's a brothel outside your walls. There I'll find a bed and both of us can sleep easier." Tyrion turned for the door before remembering the real reason he was in Winterfell. "We leave at first light, Lady Jacqueline." He called over his shoulder without so much as a glance at her. "If you are joining us, don't be late."


	8. Alone

Jacqueline cursed Catelyn Stark. She cursed the Imp as well. And she cursed the King for leaving her behind. After spending nearly a month alone with the Starks in Winterfell, she had joined Lord Tyrion on the road south. The first couple of weeks went by without an incident. The small group, which consisted of the dwarf and his two guards, Yoren from the Night's Watch and Jacqueline, traveled must faster than the King's large entourage had when they made the journey to Winterfell. The conversation was light and the King's Road was mostly empty.

But then they met Lady Catelyn on the road and now Jacqueline found herself riding alone through the Riverlands. When they stopped at the inn for the evening, the men went into the busy establishment and left Jacqueline alone in the stables as she fussed over her horse. The poor animal hadn't had a decent brushing since before Robert had left Winterfell. Dried dirt and bits of grass had found their way into the horse's grey coat. They were nearly King's Landing now and Jacqueline felt it would not be wise to enter the city on a dirty horse or else Renly would chastise her for it. Of course, it had probably been a long time since Renly brushed his own horse but her youngest brother had always been a creature of cleanliness.

Jacqueline had just dug the small brush out of one of the saddle bags when she heard a commotion in the inn. And it wasn't loud drunkenness and the clinking of tankards that one would associate with roadside inns. It was the sound of swords being drawn. An unusual silence followed. Jacqueline stood next to an empty stall with the brush in her hand, uncertain if she should check on the others in the inn or stay away. But at that moment the entrance to the inn burst open and a number of people exited. Feeling an unexplainable need to hide, Jacqueline pushed herself and the horse into the empty stall before kneeling down out of sight.

There were voices, men's voices, as the group entered the stables. Jacqueline couldn't make out what they were saying as the voices mixed with the sound of stomping boots and the sound of horses being readied. Her own horse nudged her in the shoulder with its nose but Jacqueline just pushed it away, worried that someone might find her. She wasn't sure what caused her hide. It seemed like such an overreaction to the situation. But then Jacqueline heard her voice.

Catelyn's voice was louder than the others, projected so everyone could hear. Jacqueline could detect a small amount of anger in her voice but it was mostly filled with power and control.  _They were taking him back to Winterfell_ , her voice proclaimed. The voices left the stables, pulling their straddled horses with them. When the stable was empty Jacqueline left her hiding place. She peered around the opening of the stable, towards the road which was now busy with riders.

She recognized Catelyn Stark first, with her Tully red hair shining in the sun. Jacqueline counted twelve men in her group, not counting the three men who had sacks pulled over their heads. One was clearly Tyrion Lannister and Jacqueline assumed the others to be his guards. She didn't see Yoren, though. Jacqueline stayed hidden in the stables until the group had set off the down road, headed north. To Winterfell? It was a long way back to the North.

Curiosity overtook Jacqueline's senses and she followed them. Yoren had taken off soon after only he was headed south, pushing his horse into a run and leaving Jacqueline alone at the inn.  _He's off to alert Lord Stark_ , she thought. Or perhaps the King and Queen but Jacqueline believed the Night's Watch held the Warden of the North in more respect, which was understandable. If she went straight to Cersei, Jacqueline could only imagine the woman screaming as to why she hadn't done more to stop Catelyn.  _Because he is not my brothe_ r, she would respond. But he was by laws of marriage. Robert would certainly get an earful from his wife if it looked like Jacqueline had simply cowered in the stables, as she truly had.

Without much of a plan, Jacqueline mounted her half brushed horse and headed north again. She was smart enough to keep her distance from the large group. If they saw her they did not do anything about it. However, two days into the strange journey, Catelyn and her hostages turned east off the King's Road. Jacqueline didn't follow them. There was no way to get to Winterfell by the Eastern Road. It only led into the steep mountains of the Vale. The Vale of Arryn; home to Jon Arryn's widow, Lysa Arryn.  _No, Lysa Tully._ Catelyn was taking Tyrion to her sister in the Eyrie.

Jacqueline wasn't about to follow them. The Eastern Road cut through the mountains, which were home to a number of hill tribes that attacked those traveling on the road. There was a great amount of danger on that road, no matter the size of one's party. It would not do herself, no Tyrion, any good if Jacqueline got killed, or worse, by a band of barbarians. And if she did reach the Eyrie, Lysa Arryn would more than likely kill her anyways for the poor woman had become increasingly paranoid over the years and the death of her husband only furthered her progression into instability. And Lysa would definitely have Tyrion killed if Catelyn took him to the Eyrie. Jacqueline wondered if Lady Stark was aware of her sister's state of mind.

Following was not an option so Jacqueline was only left with two others. Turn around and return to King's Landing to inform Cersei of her brother's whereabouts. Or travel to Casterly Rock in the Westerlands and tell Lord Tywin Lannister instead. Both were roughly the same distance away so time was not a deciding factor. If Jacqueline went to Cersei, what could she do to retrieve Tyrion? Would the woman demand the head of every Stark and Tully for the insult to her family or leave Tyrion to his fate? Cersei had never been fond of her youngest brother. Jacqueline wasn't quite sure why Lady Catelyn had taken the Imp in the first place but Jacqueline didn't want the dwarf to die. They never talked much but Tyrion was one of the very few people at court who didn't look upon on her with pity or whisper behind her back.

Just the same, Jacqueline was unsure of how Tywin would deal with the situation. He had a reputation to uphold but she always believed Lord Tywin to be a reasonable man. More so than his daughter, at least. But either way, if things got too messy, Robert could always step in and store things out. Since he was the king. In the end, a still somewhat uncertain Jacqueline decided to tell the head of the family. She turned her horse west and made her way towards the Riverlands and Casterly Rock.


	9. Blood

Instead of taking the River Road all the way to the Westerlands, Jacqueline decided to cut across the green plains and cross the Red Fork well past Riverrun, the ancestral seat of House Tully. Jacqueline had never traveled alone. She rarely went anywhere without an escort, even in King's Landing where she was always shadowed by Ser Antario. Nonetheless, Jacqueline had heard constant stories of the horrors that befell woman alone on the road while at King's Landing but, so far, she had experienced none of them. She avoided towns and inns, except when she needed food. Jacqueline doubted anyone would recognize her but she wanted to evade any potential question about why she was in the Riverlands alone. _Just riding to Casterly Rock to alert the Lannisters that the daughter of your liege lord has taken one of them hostage_.

Jacqueline was thankful it didn't rain as she got closer to the Westerlands; she didn't want to get stuck in the flood waters of the Red Fork. But as the flat plains started to give way to hills when Jacqueline crossed over into the Westerlands, the sky began to darken and Jacqueline decided to pick up the pace to find shelter before the rain began. By the time she crossed back onto the road the surrounding trees started to thin and Jacqueline could see farther into the distance. Evening was still a couple of hours away when she spotted them.

The mass of red tents was a stark contrast to the green landscape around it. Jacqueline couldn't be certain from the distance but a number of the red banners appeared to have a golden lion in the center. The camp was still a distance away and she lost view of it once she descended the hill she as on but Jacqueline kicked her horse into a run, determined to the reach the camp before nightfall. Though, she couldn't figure out why there would be a Lannister camp this far away from Casterly Rock and she hoped its appearance didn't have anything to do with Catelyn Stark. _But why else would Lord Tywin be gathering his forces_ , Jacqueline thought as the road was once again surrounded by a thick cluster of trees.

There were three of them standing in the road. She thought they were soldiers, sentries perhaps, so she slowed her horse to walk. But as Jacqueline got closer to the men she noticed that none of them wore Lannister red or any significant color that announced their allegiance. But they were armed. The man closest to her, who stood a bit in front of the two, had a sword strapped around his waist. His companions behind him were shorter and carried an axe that look like it was made more for cutting wood than killing men and the other was only armed with an bow, which he had yet to draw. The man in front put up his hand, signaling her to stop, which she did.

Jacqueline made certain to stop a good distance away from the men so she was well out of reaching distance of their weapons, with the exception being the archer. The man with sword apparently wasn't happy with the distance between then, as he moved forward silently, only coming to a halt right in front of her horse. The man was young, not yet thirty years, with mud colored hair that stuck to his head with sweat and grim.

Jacqueline was uncomfortable with his lack of distance from her. She was even more uncomfortable with the men's lack of colors or banners. She was now in the Westerlands, so most likely they were sworn to Lord Tywin or one of his bannermen. But they were also close enough to the Riverlands that they could possibly pledge fealty to the Tullys. Or they could be neither. _Outlaws_. They certainly looked the part. Rough clothes, bannerless, and their weapons looked to be quite old and worn.

"The road ain't safe for a woman alone." The man said, with his hands on hips with easy access to his sword. His rough accent confirmed Jacqueline's belief that he was a commoner. _I've had no trouble thus far_ , she thought to herself.

"Who said I was alone?" She said firmly, in the strongest voice she could manage without sounding too rude _. Better to leave them in doubt than confirm their suspicions_. The man looked about quite clownishly before giving her an expecting look. Jacqueline noticed that his eyes were the same dirty color as his hair. "Lord Tywin Lannister is expecting me," she lied. "Let me pass."

The man didn't appear to hear her. Instead he casually took hold of her horse's bridle and stepped closer. "You got any gold?" He asked boldly. _Robbers_. Jacqueline had very little money left. She had a sneaking suspicious that she had been overcharged each time she stopped for supplies simply because she was a woman. She didn't argue with the merchants though. And her silence had severely depleted her purse and the current contents of which were not likely to please the robbers that blocked her way.

She took hold of the small dagger that was hidden near the pommel of her saddle. She had never used it before and she hoped it would remain that way. "I have nothing of value for you," she said more rudely. "Now get out of my way or Lord Tywin will hear of you boldness." Jacqueline also decided to remove one foot from its place in the stirrup, ready to the kick the man in the face if need be.

Unfortunately, she never got the chance to do so before he acted. The man pulled his own dagger from his belt and slashed her horse across the neck. Warm liquid splattered onto her face before Jacqueline was thrown from the panicked horse. Somehow, how she managed not to stab herself with the dagger that she gripped in her hand when she landed with a loud thud on the dirt road. The sounds of her dying horse echoed in her ears as Jacqueline tried to get rid of the dizziness that swarmed her head. She also heard the sound of many hooves beating across the ground.

She felt hands pulling at her clothes then, digging into her pockets and removing their contents. Unsatisfied, the rough hands moved to her neck, pulling at the gold chain and her mother's locket that was attached to it. Instinctively, Jacqueline swung her arm up, intent on pushing the hands' owner away from her. Instead, the dagger she held planted itself in the man's throat, just below his chin. The sound of the metal cutting through his skin was louder than everything else around her. Blood covered her hand and the man collapsed top of her which caused the dagger to widen the gash in his throat. An iron smelled crept into her nose and the taste of it in her month.

Then the sound of hooves came to an abrupt end and more voices took their place. There were a number of angry shouts but Jacqueline was more concerned with the dead man that now pinned her to the ground. She was nearly in tears from both fear and frustration by the time the body was pulled off of her and tossed to the side. Jaime Lannister quickly pulled to her feet and grabbed Jacqueline roughly by the shoulders to look her in the eyes.

"What in the name of the gods are you doing here, Jacqueline?" He all but screamed while taking the gory dagger from her bloody hand. She started crying then.


End file.
